


The Little Angel

by showmethebeefy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, No Dialogue, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 05:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2336312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/showmethebeefy/pseuds/showmethebeefy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story in which an angel falls in love with a human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This was from my Tumblr originally, for DeanCas Week 2014, but I decided to post it here.

The first thing Castiel became aware of was the crashing of the waves. The roar poured into his ears and made him question what was going on. Next came the grit of the sand, grinding on his face. He couldn’t quite move yet, and he didn’t know why, but he could feel the sand, scraping over his every orifice in a way he had never felt before when he had visited Earth on his travels.

A groan escaped his lips, and as he attempted to move, twin stabs of pain jolted through his back and he fell to the ground in agony. He tried to yell in pain, but found that he couldn’t, so instead, he scrunched himself into a tiny ball, pressing himself into the scratchy sand, eyes still screwed shut, and prayed to his Father that the pain would leave him behind, and that he would be okay.

Finally the pain abated enough that he could explore his back, which was surprisingly corporeal. He only found smooth skin, and it was then that it dawned on him. Crowley had delivered. He was human. He again tried to make noise, a whoop of joy, anything, but couldn’t. Soundless air escaped his mouth as the rest of the deal dawned on Castiel. He would never speak again. This was the price he paid in order to be among the humans he loved so. Particularly that one. The last part of the deal sent shudders down Castiel’s human spine, but it had to be done. Castiel didn’t want to think about what would happen when he died.

Slowly, so not to draw pain from his back again, Castiel stood, each limb moving and flexing in new and fascinating ways. The feeling of his tendons moving under his skin was particularly transfixing, and he paused for a moment to watch his hand flex and the little moving parts under his skin work. _Fascinating._

After a while of simply marveling over the sensation of being human ( _how did they do it every day without stopping to wonder at the miracle of their bodies?_ ), Castiel became aware of the fact that he was naked. No alarm bells went off inside his newly formed cranium, however. Thousands of years he had existed, and humans were naked often. Castiel had seen. Castiel knew. Castiel felt compelled to go cover himself. He looked around, but nothing popped out to him on the landscape, and however hard he tried, he couldn’t call something into existence. So, he stayed naked.

The novelty of standing wearing off, he began to walk. One foot forward, another foot forward, and repeat. The first time, he fell over. The second time, he fell over. The third time, he made it more than a foot, paused to celebrate, and fell over. It took him several tries, but finally he was walking with confidence, though every few minutes he had to pause and wonder at the miracle that were legs. Legs, legs, he loved legs. Every part of a human was a miracle, and the legs were fascinating. He paused to run his hands down them, over the sand-encrusted, muscular calves of his legs, and marvel. He also took this opportunity to brush sand out of some rather uncomfortable places.

When he stood back up, he became aware of the sound of someone moving on the beach. Castiel started walking again, at a faster pace. Maybe it was _him_ , the reason that Castiel had gone to Crowley late one shady night, the reason he had fallen. As he drew nearer, the thoughts overcame him. Was it him? The man, the one with the green eyes and the astounding freckles, who was unassuming and rough around the edges and had the most beautiful soul that Castiel had ever seen? Was it him?

Castiel rounded a particularly sharp corner on the beach, where earth and sand met and strange twisted trees grew, and nearly fell over. It was him. Castiel stumbled another few feet, and then he did fall over, and the man turned, the man who Castiel knew in his head as Dean Winchester, the one who Castiel had saved from certain death and then left. The man turned, and Castiel’s heart nearly stopped, because without being able to see his soul, he saw so much more. This muscular man, who had clearly been planning on swimming judging by his nearly nude attire, transfixed Castiel with his every asset. And Castiel fell in love, more so than he had just based on soul, for seeing this man as angel and then as human cemented in Castiel’s heart that this man was the only man he could ever love.

To love for an angel is a strange thing. It isn’t like how a human loves. Human love is fleeting and doesn’t last forever, but an angel’s love lasts forever. Human lives are like drops in a bucket, but angels are immortal, and that was what Castiel had been, an angel, but now he was human, and he could love this man with the passion and fury that only a hurricane in a human could. If only the man knew his name.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really proud of the description in this one. Let me know what you think?


End file.
